


Rosemary and Mint

by ferix79



Series: FFXV Kinktober 2017 [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Dom/sub, Gags, Kinktober, Knifeplay, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Scents & Smells, Sensory Deprivation, Subspace, Trust, Wax Play, but barely, knifeplay lite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 13:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12366627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferix79/pseuds/ferix79
Summary: Prompto trusts, and gives all of himself to Ignis.





	Rosemary and Mint

**Author's Note:**

> HOW did this get to 2.8k words, what the fuck

It took Prompto two years in their relationship to reach a level of trust where he felt comfortable handing over all of himself to Ignis.

Some days, he still wasn’t there, but tonight wasn’t the time for that. They talked it over plenty already, and he still had a way out if he needed it, so the only thing left was to get down to it.

“Comfortable?” Ignis asked, joining him on the bed. Prompto was already divulged of his clothing while Ignis was still in his boxers. Prompto hummed, nodding.

“Good, now tell me again what you’ll do if you want to stop,” he purred, holding out a hand to Prompto. His sub took hold of his hand and squeezed it three times.

“Squeeze three times if I need to stop,” he dutifully stated, “And if you check up on me and I’m all good, only one time.”

“Good boy,” Ignis released Prom’s hand and leaned to the side, retrieving a ball gag, “now, let’s get you all set up.”

First went his ability to talk, the gag strapped tight and satisfying around the back of his head.  

Next; sight, with a thick blindfold tied into a neat knot. He could feel Ignis’ fingers smoothing down his hair, being careful not to catch or yank out any stray strands.

Finally, his hearing. Ignis pressed one last loving kiss to his cheek and Prompto savored the soft click of his dom’s lips before his ears were covered with noise-cancelling headphones.

Ignis backed away for a moment and, with all sensation cut off except for the soft sheets below him, Prompto took a deep breath. The setup was quick and easy, Ignis efficient yet loving. He could do this—trust all of himself to someone else. And there were no hands more capable than his dom’s.

Prompto was left to wait for several long, long minutes after that.

Ignis did not given any explicit instruction that Prompto could not move, but he remained still out of obedience and submission nonetheless. It was an unnerving, but liberating experience, having no sense of time or space. To keep himself grounded he thought of Ignis, eased himself slowly into the mindset that all of his body belonged to his dom.

Ignis helped him ease into it, too, since they were early on in the scene. After the headphones went on he felt Ignis’ weight leave the bed, but every other minute or so a hand ran over his arm or calf or through his hair. Just little reassurances, as Ignis hadn’t checked in with him yet.

Finally, Prompto realized why he’d been left waiting. The gentle, calming scent of lavender wafted through the air and just barely tickled his nose. Then…pine? No, sandalwood—wait, fresh apples, then…honey, maybe? It was a mass of pleasant but confusing scents, and without his other senses he was easily overwhelmed and fixated on the onslaught to his nose.

Then, through the clouded haze of scent, a hand on his thigh. It sat still for some time, though if it was one minute or ten Prompto couldn’t distinguish. After that another hand settled into his, not providing or demanding input, and waited.

The hand! Yes, the hand. Prompto’s head jerked up from where it had drifted down against his chest and then squeezed the hand once. He was all good. Green. Ready to keep going.

Lips rushed forward on to his neck, pressing onto his skin like little prayers. A wide, calloused hand swept over his ribcage and held him steady, but added no more stimulation.  The lips lavishing his neck eventually slowed down, and were then replaced by steady hands moving each body part into a carefully considered position.

Prompto didn’t have to lift a finger.

He was shifted back onto his behind, untucking his legs out from under him, before each knee was unfolded and showered with affection before being straightened out. Hands pressed down on his shoulders—a reminder to relax—before dragging down the length of his arms and leaving them limp by his sides. Finally, he was cradled and lifted further down the bed, allowing him to lie down and spread himself out completely.

It made him so comfortable and happy, being able to do whatever he wanted. Well, within Ignis’ limits, of course, but he never in a hundred years thought the scene would be so relaxing.

Later on, he would look back and understand all the gentle preparation Ignis had been carefully performing up until that point. It was necessary before moving on.

Back in happy, unassuming Prompto’s mind, he smiled and curled his toes when a slick finger began circling his ass. Oh, so this was what Ignis had planned? High on endorphins and the overpowering scent of the room, he would have let the man do _anything_ to him.

It wasn’t fingers or a cock, though, that pushed into his ass. It was…too hard to be a cock, but it had a soft skin and was shaped like one. Oh, must be—

Vibrations, focused on his prostate and radiating out to all the sensitive nerves in his ass, overtook his body.

And he was made to wait.

And wait…and wait and wait and waitandwaitandwait—

His whole body was shivering, almost thrashing against the sheets when the hand returned. He gasped like he’d just broken through the water’s surface when it touched him, panting in exertion as he tried to calm down, struggling against the ball lodged in his mouth. The hand pressed down, palm flat against his chest, with light pressure. Just enough to take his mind off the vibrations and the need between his legs.

As his shivers and shakes lessened, so did the intensity of the vibrator inside him. _I’m doing good_ , his first coherent thought in a while drifted through his mind, _I’m doing what he wants me to do. I’m doing good._

A finger to his lips, like he was being shushed, was another signal to calm down, or Prompto took it as one. He focused on relaxing more, straining to ignore the ringing in his ears and the sour-sweet smell of the room, and then the hand was placed in his again. Not giving, not asking. Just waiting.

It was impossible to ignore his body’s reaction to the major loss of input, but that made the hand resting in his all the more anchoring. He was given time and he took as much as he needed, then squeezed the hand once when he was ready.

The hand left again and he was stranded with the vibrations once more, but not for long.

Two fingers trailed down his sternum, pulling away right before they touched his stomach. Hot wax immediately followed the touch, searing the same line down his chest for just a second before it cooled and solidified against his skin.

The sensation was so unexpected that Prompto arched up off the bed and screamed in pleasure. But, muffled by the ball gag and the headphones, not a whisper of it reached his own ears. The broken loop of sensory input and output threw him so far off that he forgot about the wax, and nearly repeated the same actions when random dots of heat pooled across his abs.

That first warning—fingers trailing down his chest—was just that; a first warning. He received no other cues the entire time as heat splashed from his abs to his thighs to the underside of his arms. It was wonderful and painful and so overwhelming to his other senses that the vibrator and the mix of scents in the room were shoved out of his mind.

As time went on the heat got more daring, circling his nipples and zig-zagging across his belly. As it skirted lower two fingers took hold of his cock and lifted it up from its natural position, rock hard and curled against his stomach. The heat stopped for a moment and he could do nothing but lie still, so deep within himself that he did not question where the heat would go next. It would go where it liked and he would receive it— and he would be happy about it.

There was a presence beneath his thighs, and steadily the vibrations increased again. He felt his throat contracting and vibrating in a moan, but the sound did not reach his ears again. This time he was too far gone to let it affect him; he just bathed in the sea of pleasure surrounding him as the shivers returned with the heat, the wax moving lower and lower until the hand on his cock started jerking him off—

Prompto wished he could have seen himself in the throes of a full body orgasm, convulsing on the sheets as he came. Ignis held and stroked him though the ordeal, milking cum from his cock for as long as he could.

When he finally came down, he felt like he was sinking into the bed. His limbs were lead and his head the same, yet the mattress beneath him felt like it was shifting and churning, like a boat at sea.

 Pleasure was the only sense he could pick up—nothing else. Not the sheets beneath him nor the solid wax cracking on his skin. He could not smell the mix of scents anymore, or hear ringing in his ears.

Until, finally, sensation returned.

They went in exact reverse order of how they started. First, the headphones.

The foam of the earpads crinkling as Ignis removed them stirred his dulled senses. Then, the sound of skin against skin. Fingers, maybe? They were soft sounds, either way, used to help him float back to the surface. Skin-on-skin morphed into a hand running through his hair, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through his skull.

“Are you doing alright?” a whisper asked in his ear, paired with a hand resting in his again. Still unable to speak, Prom signaled yes with their safe system. He was doing fine, gently unraveling from the intense deprivation of his senses.

After a few more minutes of quiet, but increasingly louder sounds, the blindfold came off.

The lights were low, so low that his unadjusted eyes couldn’t even see the ceiling. If he tilted his head slightly and looked down, he could see Ignis in the corner of his vision. The man was expressionless, setting aside the blindfold before returning his gaze to Prompto.

Tears involuntarily pooled in the corners of Prompto’s eyes—just a reaction from being exposed to air after being covered for so long, Ignis knew. He fixed a soft smile on his face and moved to where Prompto could more easily see him. A hand rested comfortably on Prompto’s cheek, slowly stroking his face and wiping away the tears as they fell.

Once the few tears were dried up, the gag came out. This was always the hardest part, Ignis felt.

Prompto groaned at the lack of resistance, his mouth falling closed as he swallowed spit and tried to readjust. The ache wasn’t too bad, and strong hands began massaging down the sides of his face and jaw the moment he indicated any distress.

“Are you verbal?” Ignis asked after a few minutes of gentle coaxing. It didn’t matter to him whether the answer was yes or no—and Ignis would never judge him either way—but he needed to know, for his own sake.

Prompto nodded, but then made the sign for ‘water’, or attempted to, at least. A haze still hovered over his mind and fine motor skills were too much to ask for, but Ignis got the message. After propping Prompto up on some pillows he offered him a new bottle and helped him hold it steady while he had his fill.

“I’ll be right back,” Ignis assured Prompto after putting the water away, “the scent is overpowering the room and I need to open some windows and doors. When I return we’ll get you cleaned up.”

“ ‘kay,” Prom sighed, not ready to raise his voice past a whisper. The sound of his sub’s voice made Ignis smile, though, and he squeezed his hand before moving off the bed.

First the window in their bedroom was opened, a puff of fresh night air rushing into the room. Ignis moved on, opening the bedroom door, as Prompto sat and listened to the distant noise of cars far below them.

The cool air blowing in from the window was a blessing as they moved on, drying the thin sheen of sweat that coated both their bodies. Ignis had lit candles all over the room, Prompto discovered as he glanced around. Paired with the intensity of the night, it was no wonder the room was so hot.

Ignis procuring a knife—a silver butter knife with an ornate handle, at that—was…a _little_ unexpected, Prompto had to admit. But when did Ignis _not_ have a knife in his hands? Of the things that Ignis usually held, if it wasn’t a steering wheel or a pen it was probably a knife, and Prompto trusted him this time just as he did every other time.

“To help remove the wax,” Ignis explained, taking Prompto’s forearm in hand and gently sliding the blade under a solid puddle until it peeled off. His skin tingled in its absence, but Ignis followed up with a kiss pressed to the same spot, and tingles turned into warm reassurance.

What Prompto assumed would be a chore—a lengthy cleanup after a scene—turned into the most calming aftercare session he’d ever had. The dull, cool blade scraping across his skin was rhythmic, hypnotic as Ignis progressed from his chest all the way down to his thighs. He followed many pieces of the wax with licks or kisses, tickling and caressing his sub as he pleased.

Only when he progressed to Prompto’s lower belly, just above his soft cock, did he run into a hitch. Prompto jumped when he put pressure there, pressing himself further back into the pillows to get away.

“I’m sorry,” Ignis was quick to apologize, moving the knife away where Prompto could plainly see it was far from him, “still too sensitive?”

“Yes,” his answer was gruff, his voice still a bit scratchy. It was…interesting, he thought, how he usually would have said ‘Hey, no problem, you didn’t know, it’s okay!’, but was now reduced to short answers. He didn’t need to forgive Ignis or dismiss his own discomfort. That was what the whole scene was about after all: comfort, _his_ comfort, and feeling safe enough to express his feelings.

 _Safe_ , Prompto thought again as Ignis moved on to his thighs. _That’s an important feeling._

After all the wax was done away with, Prompto moved to sit on the corner of the bed with a little assistance from Ignis. The top sheet and plastic covering underneath was done away with, folded up and shoved in a corner until morning. Underneath, their actual sheets were pristine and fresh.

As much as Prompto wanted to dive back into their bed and wait for Ignis to cover him with the comforter, he knew the other man would never agree. They were still covered in waxy remnants and sweat, so a good bath was in order before sleep.

“Can you stand?” Ignis asked, taking Prompto’s hands in his.

“Yeah…” he sighed, but looped their joined hands around Ignis’ waist and pulled him closer. Ignis stepped in, his legs framing Prompto’s, while Prom rested his head on Ignis’ stomach and let his hands fall to hug Ignis’ thighs. He _could_ stand, but he needed another minute…maybe a few more.

Ignis smiled and gave him time, resting his hands on Prompto’s slumped shoulders while he waited.

“How do you think I did?” He asked a few moments later, swathing his hands back and forth over Prompto’s upper back. His sub didn’t answer for a moment, but soon he lifted his head and looked up at Ignis, a tired, but satisfied smile on his face.

“I…never felt unsafe. It was overwhelming at times, but…”

“But it’s supposed to be overwhelming,” Ignis finished for him.

“Exactly. So you did perfect, I think,” Prompto said, hugging himself close to Ignis once more. The closeness made him happy. The scene left him satisfied and relaxed. And Ignis made him feel safe. It was all Prompto could ever ask for.

Ignis chuckled at the sudden yank, but succumbed to Prompto’s grip once more. Soon, he’d coax his lover up to his feet and draw them a bath, soaking away sweat and wax in rosemary and mint soap, but for now they remained, basking in each other’s love in the cool night air.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!
> 
> [ my tumblr](http://ferix-writes.tumblr.com)  
> I'm also on Twitter @ferix_writes


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